


Intersession

by Chaotic_Smutty (Anna_Hopkins)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Begging, Bottom Harry, Cosplay, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Role-Playing Game, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/pseuds/Chaotic_Smutty
Summary: The last war of the gods has its battleground on the earthly planes; the human kingdoms, guided by patron deities in the pantheons of Light and Dark, waged endless decades of war upon each other, for the wealth and the glory promised eternal to the victors. Dumbledore, leader of the Light, and his mythical lover-enemy Grindelwald, leader of the Dark, have chosen their representatives through prophecy in the earthly kingdom of Britannia: the Golden Trio, Dumbledore's chosen, have roamed far and wide in search of the holy artifacts that will end the war in their victory, even as their fame leads them to be threatened by the Grindelwaldian kingdom of Nurmengard.In their journey dogged by Nurmengard's zealous soldiers, the Trio were joined by a Light Paladin named Harry Potter, the current holder of the Sword of Gryffindor - one of the holy artifacts that the Trio has been seeking. They must get through the Forbidden Forest to Hogwarts, Dumbledore's castle, on the borders of Britannia and Nurmengard, in order to return the Sword to its rightful resting place as a key to ending the war. But the Nurmengard armies' pursuit is never-ending, and soon, the conflict will come to a head.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	1. Solo Session.

**Author's Note:**

> This naturally plays pretty fast and loose with the rules of tabletop games, which is why I haven't tagged for anything specific.
> 
> I do highly recommend Tale of An Industrious Rogue - https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Tale_of_an_Industrious_Rogue,_Part_I - or The All Guardsmen Party - http://www.theallguardsmenparty.com/ - for intriguing and compelling campaign stories.

The part of the forest the Golden Trio had been struggling to get through for so long suddenly gave way to a meadow, green and vibrant as the legendary hills of Avalon. They stared, agape, at the scenery from the forest's edge; the edge of the meadow could be seen ahead and to their left, but it appeared to stretch endlessly to the east, into the distant mists that marked the start of the country of Nurmengard.

Also in the east: a rising cloud of dust that heralded the legion of cavalry on its way to intercept them.

"We won't be able to cross the meadow before they arrive," Hermione realized. "Going back or around is also out of the question - they'll just set the trees on fire."

"If I took the Invisibility Cloak-" Ron spoke up-

"No, guys," Harry interrupted. "It's Neville Grindelwald's men are after. I'll hold them off while you escape - just... don't look back."

Slowly, realization came over the Trio. Neville sputtered, "Harry, are you sure-"

"Whoa, mate," Ron tried to calm him-

Hermione adjusted her enchanted glasses. "We could always-"

"No. It's got to be this way," Harry said gravely, fingering the heavy gold chain at his throat. "I'll take responsibility. Just go, and take the Sword with you. It's more important."

Ron and Hermione nodded and took off across the grassy landscape at as full a sprint as they could manage. Neville lingered, worry in his sad blue eyes. "Harry," the wizard said softly, "If you do what I think you'll do... you won't be Light anymore." A trembling hand rested on his shoulder. "There has to be a better way."

Harry glared at him, shaking off the touch. "I'll do what's best," he snarled,  _ "for the greater good." _ They both knew the phrase for a mockery of Grindelwald's own ideologies.  _ "Go, _ Neville."

The horsemen were getting closer, loud enough their horses' hoofbeats reached Harry's ears. He turned to face east, and retrieved the Locket from under his robes. He'd carried it for so long now that the residual cold its previous wearers described no longer affected him; it was when he'd realized that, that he'd truly known this day would come.

He raised the emerald-faceted face of the Locket to his lips and kissed the warming metal. His free hand, he lifted, palm aimed at the horizon.

Harry had not spoken Parseltongue since he'd first learned it was a Dark gift, ages ago; but it came to him now as easily as it always did. _ "This magic I have sacrificed to you, I do require. Bolster my power; bring my hell-flames higher." _ A low hiss from the Locket; a click of the latch, and heat washed over him like a tidal wave, the air humming with latent energy.

He swallowed down the fear that clawed up his throat, and hissed,  _ "Fiendfyre." _

"Everyone roll a dex save," Tom announced, his eyes alight with excitement. "Harry, roll bonus damage, and then a d100 for coverage, with advantage."

"16," Hermione said.

"12, shit," Ron peeked at the table through his fingers.

"18," Neville beamed. "My best roll all night!"

They turned expectantly to Harry, who'd gone pale.

"20 and 100," he whispered.

"Holy  _ shit," _ Ron stood up, eyes bugging out.

Harry's look of shock morphed slowly into a smirk. One that, had anyone been looking, Tom's lips matched.

"Everyone's escaped the blast, even Ron," the DM informed them. "I'm going to end the session here so I can make some adjustments to the next encounter. Harry, can you stay behind to discuss your character?"

"Sure." He helped clean up the room, binning the takeaway containers from dinner. Soon, they were alone in Tom's flat.

For dramatic effect, Tom dimmed the lights and lit a tea-candle on the table. Its flickering made his face look even more gaunt than usual. "So, Harry," he murmured. "You've finally activated the Dark artifact you found in the third session, and in doing so, killed nearly a thousand of Grindelwald's soldiers in one attack."

"..Shit," Harry swore under his breath. "Not - not a couple hundred? A  _ thousand?" _

"I have to admit I expected you to keep holding onto it," Tom's lips quirked in another smile. "It was  _ overkill. _ More than that... it was Dark magic."

"So Dumbledore's definitely tossing me out," Harry nodded.

"Indeed; in this battle of the gods, you can no longer be Dumbledore's paladin. As it was for his sake, Dumbledore won't levy a penalty for oathbreaking. But the light of your soul..." Tom's hand hovered near the candle flame, "has been swallowed in shade." He pinched it out.

A moment of silence passed in the darkened room. Tom was the one to break it: "Have you considered classing into warlock?"

"Who'd be my patron, though," Harry thought aloud. "I met the fey queen Lovegood... but she's more Light-aligned..."

"There happens to be a patron who's had his eye on your paladin for some time," Tom suggested, passing Harry a slip of paper with bonus stats. He turned the green LEDs in his room back on. "A younger god than Grindelwald or Dumbledore, but as powerful as either of them. He is very generous to his followers, few as they are, and this sacrifice of multitudes has drawn him in."

"Are we starting a one-on-one session?" Harry asked, reaching for his notebook.

Tom laid his hand on Harry's stopping him. "Yes, but let me get a couple of props." He stood, eyes locking on Harry's and for a moment Harry thought there was something else in his expression. Something... hungry.

He felt heat rising on the back of his neck, and sat quietly while Tom went out of the room.

The roar of Fiendfyre had temporarily deafened Harry; he swayed on his feet in the aftermath, gazing out upon the vast smoking field of scorched earth and charred bodies that the spell had left behind, and heard naught but the rush of blood in his ears, the drumlike pounding of his heart. Alone.

So many had died in that one blast, he could almost feel the rush of their souls in the air - and he regretted nothing. Not one crumbling ribcage or melted sword in the field of black and bones.

The ground was still warm underneath his feet as he walked a winding path through the wreckage; the heat, in the absence of the sun - smoke had gathered too thickly in the upper atmosphere - was comforting, so much so that for a time Harry did not notice the presence walking by his side.

He'd stopped to examine a skull when the edge of the figure's black cape caught his eye. "Who-?" Harry mouthed, retrieving a lesser healing potion to fix his ears.

He almost regretted it when the man's honeyed voice reached him. "You've done  _ excellent _ work here, Harry Potter," he breathed, leaning over Harry's shoulder. The skull Harry had been eyeing crumbled to dust at the barest brush of fingertips from the man's pale hand. "Almost as exquisite as you yourself."

Out of character, Harry blushed. "My charisma isn't  _ that  _ high," he protested.

The stranger laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, gently urging him to turn around. Then, it slid up to Harry's cheek. "For a soul so Light to not only harbor such darkness for so long, but to give in to it - to prepare this much of a sacrifice..." he leaned in closer, enough that Harry could see the red glint of his eyes under the hood. "You are this era's greatest prize, Harry. I would very much like to make you mine."

Harry's breath hitched. "Wh-who are you?" he whispered.

"Dear Harry," the man purred, "you may know me as Lord Voldemort."


	2. Class Change.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stranger laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, gently urging him to turn around. Then, it slid up to Harry's cheek. "For a soul so Light to not only harbor such darkness for so long, but to give in to it - to prepare this much of a sacrifice..." he leaned in closer, enough that Harry could see the red glint of his eyes under the hood. "You are this era's greatest prize, Harry. I would very much like to make you mine."
> 
> Harry's breath hitched. "Wh-who are you?" he whispered.
> 
> "Dear Harry," the man purred, "you may know me as Lord Voldemort."

Tom had changed little of his appearance to cosplay as Voldemort - color contacts, the black hooded cloak, and, Harry thought, a sweet candied-cherry smell on his breath. Maybe, the reddish shine to his lips suggested, the latter wasn't specifically for the cosplay. His face was inches from Harry's, and he gazed upon him in a way that made Harry's heart race.

There was no denying Tom was beautiful, in-costume or otherwise. Harry had just never thought the man's attention would ever be turned so singularly upon  _ him. _

"V-Voldemort," he tried, feeling more than hearing Tom's breath catch. "You - want  _ me?" _

Voldemort chuckled, low and pleased, thumbing over Harry's cheekbone. "Lovely thing," he purred, "you do not know your own value, do you?" A barest brush of knuckles down the side of Harry's neck raised goosebumps on his skin, eyelids fluttering.

"I have watched you for so long, Harry... watched and waited, ever since you first appeared before me. My very nature is such that you would not notice... but..." Their foreheads pressed together; Voldemorts lips were so close to Harry's he could feel them touch his own as the Dark Lord spoke, feel the man's - not a man's, beyond a man's - breath on his face. "You can have the  _ world, _ Harry... I will give you all that is within my power..." Voldemort's hands slid to his waist, thumbs tracing light circles on his hips through the fabric of his clothing. "If you would simply agree... to belong..." a breathy sigh. "To  _ me." _

Heat had suffused Harry's body even more than that which rose from the burned earth around them. He bit his lip, trying and failing to steady his breathing. "To be your warlock," he stated, almost questioning. "To have you as my patron."

_ "Darling _ boy," Voldemort growled, fingertips digging into his sides a moment.  _ Possessive, _ thought Harry. "I would even make you my  _ paladin. _ Seal the oath, and thereby accept a part of my power inside you." The touch slipped inward, fingers sliding over a bulge in Harry's trousers that he'd been aware of for more than a few minutes. He let out a little groan at the touch.

"A part of your - essence?" asked Harry, voice strained.

Voldemort palmed him through his trousers in answer.

"I-" Harry gasped at the pressure. "I accept- I accept- yes-"

Tom kissed him.

He pushed Harry down onto the sofa and snogged him, biting and sucking at Harry's lips with his mouth that tasted of chocolate and the wine they'd drunk early on in the session. Harry arched up against the warm,  _ strong  _ body pinning him down - he'd thought he was stronger, but he was wrong - and reached to wrap his arms around Tom's shoulders, even as he spread his legs beneath him.

Tom drew back, panting, and gave him a leering grin.

"What would you like, Harry? An oath? A vow? A  _ flesh-covenant?" _

"M-Master," Harry gasped, reaching for him. "Take me- own me-"

Voldemort made a sound just short of a moan. "My Harry," he murmured. "I-will-make-you- _ Fall." _

Then he took Harry's throat in his teeth and bit, hurriedly unbuttoning Harry's trousers and tugging them down and off. He pushed Harry's shirt up to his armpits, kissing a line down the middle of his check, lavishing attention on each nipple in turn while Harry squirmed underneath him.

Harry moaned, loud and shaking; his erection strained at the fabric of his briefs, wet at the tip. "Ah, please," he clawed at Tom's shoulders, "please, more-"

Tom's fingers hooked in the waistband of his briefs, and slowly, teasingly pulled them down, until they joined his trousers on the floor. His teeth scraped down Harry's stomach, leaving marks in a line down his navel, licking the salt of sweat from the crease of his lips, and - "Master,  _ ah-" _ laved up the side of Harry's shaft, tongue dipping into the slit on the head.

Harry hadn't thought his voice could get any louder, was already embarrassed of himself and glad Tom lived alone, and then Tom was swallowing him down to the root, slicking his fingers with the contents of a bottle that must have been in his pocket, and teasing further, over his perineum, to rub at the tight ring of muscle there, a fingertip just barely pressing inside before it retreated.

He clutched white-knuckled at the arm of the sofa, trying not to buck up into Tom's mouth. "You want-?" he gasped. "I'm- I didn't-"

If he'd known, he'd have prepared himself earlier, but there had never been anything to suggest Tom reciprocated his interest before-

Tom pulled back, lapping the clear fluid that dripped down from the head of Harry's cock. A thin strand of saliva connected his lower lip to it; he smiled. "If you could see yourself," he sighed, throat rasped from what he'd used it for. "But do not worry, my Harry. You will open for me another way."

His questing fingers continued, though, undeterred; and as he swallowed Harry down again, this time, Tom gave the first tentative touch to Harry's prostate, and he gasped, unable to keep still, and moaned out his title again.

_ “Master!” _

So continued Harry's descent - Voldemort seemed to relish every moment of it, a more attentive and adept lover than anyone Harry had ever encountered. Finally, when Harry writhed again and begged, clawing the scorched earth underneath him, "please, please, I'm going to-"

That was when the Dark Lord pulled away, kneeling over him, and freed his own erection, which dripped as readily as the tears of ecstasy on Harry's cheeks.

"My Harry," he hissed, "it is time for your vows." He wiped his hand clean, and cradled the side of Harry's face. "Your mouth, darling. Open it."

Oh. Oh, yes. Harry slid off the couch to kneel between Tom's feet, letting a droplet of clear fluid stain his lower lip, and opened his mouth to accept his cock, resting his hands on Tom's thighs.

One of Tom's hands tangled in his hair, cradling the back of his skull, as Harry took in the first few inches; his mouth already felt so full. Heat pooled low in his stomach; had he not imagined this before? Had he not chased this high in his fantasies since he was first introduced to Tom before the campaign even started? Tom's grip on his hair tightened, and he sent a questioning look down to Harry which could only mean one thing.

Harry nodded, relaxed his throat, and closed his eyes.

Voldemort filled Harry's throat, a satisfied noise escaping his lips. "Paladin," he groaned, "darling, your  _ mouth..." _ He swore in a language Harry didn't know, rocking back and forth before he plunged in deeper, both hands on Harry's head as he began to fuck his throat in earnest.

Harry's eyes watered as he swallowed around him, tasting salt deep in his throat. His toes curled in the dirt, and he moaned, the sound muffled but clearly pleasurable to his Lord, who pet his cheek as he pulled back again, panting. "Do you swear to me, Harry?" he asked, pressing in to the root.

Harry moaned.

"Oh, yes. That's it. You'll- serve me better than anyone?"

"Mmh-"

"Nngh." Voldemort pulled out, just the head resting on Harry's tongue, coating it with salt. "Then, Harry, my paladin," he breathed, "take yourself in hand."

Harry did. His prick throbbed in his grasp. Fuck, he was so close.

"We will seal our covenant."

_ "Yes," _ Harry rasped.

Hands gripped his head harder now; his mouth was pulled away, until just the tip of his tongue was left attached, and he fisted himself, staring up into the Dark Lord's eyes. And then-

Tom thrust into his mouth, holding his head there, and Harry came with a groan, and Tom moaned, shuddering, and spilled down his throat at nearly the same time. His cock pulsed against Harry's tongue; Harry continued to suck him, continued to work himself, until they were both overstimulated. When the other man finally pulled away, he was gasping for air as much as Harry was.

Tom helped Harry to his feet, enough for them both to flop weak-kneed onto the sofa and sit there a while. He passed Harry a water bottle and set the tissue box down between them, mopping at his brow.

"Congrats, Harry," he said eventually, turning a lazy, sated grin on him. "You've secured the Dark Lord's favor. Your alignment's changed to Neutral Evil."

Harry slumped against his shoulder, smiling back. "Wicked."

Tom laid a hand on his leg. "Stay the night for more 'campaign strategizing'?"

"Yes, my lord," Harry smirked, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter is just a bonus epilogue.


End file.
